There Will Be Blood
by grimes xi
Summary: They picked them up on the side of the road and made a deal: sex for safety. Daryl/OC
1. Chapter One

**CHAPTER ONE**

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The world was so quiet.

It was raining lightly, a faint, misty drizzle that hardly managed to pierce through the thick fog that clouded the sky and enveloped Mellie Larson in a tight blanket. The gravel road she stood on was the color of charcoal, cloaking everything in a strange, grey-colored pall. Behind her, the evening sun was just beginning to rise from the horizon, broken streams of sunlight filtering in between the swirling wreaths of fog and dust that hung suspended in the air.

It was sticky and hot, and Mellie's blonde curls were limp and slightly damp around her forehead. She brushed them aside irritably. Even though fall was fast approaching—it was almost late September—the sweltering summer heat still tormented Georgia, refusing to relent its warmth.

Mellie sighed and leaned back against her sister's beat up baleno, tilting her head back and closing her eyes.

For last few months, the entire world had sat in front of their television sets, watching reports and footage from all over the world. One by one, governments fell, cities were destroyed and more and more of the dead began rising and walking around, hunting the living humans that still remained. It had all happened so fast, practically overnight, before the entire world fell apart at the seams. Running from her childhood home with her older sister and nephew, the three of them had been driving around Georgia for the past two weeks with no direction. They were lost, and alone, and had absolutely no idea how to survive.

"Mellie, try the key again!"

Doing as her sister Nettie requested, Mellie leaned down into the white vehicle and tried to turn on the ignition, but the engine only sputtered in response. The car had broken down nearly five hours ago and the three of them were now stuck on an empty road in the middle of nowhere with hardly any water or food to feed them.

"Shit," the older woman swore, slamming down the car's hood and running a shaky hand through her tangled hair. She looked around at the empty surroundings and cursed again, an anxiousness dripping into her veins. "Go'n grab Colton," she ordered Mellie, "we're gonna try walkin'."

Mellie reached into the car and pulled out the small, sleeping six-year-old from the back seat, cradling him on her hip. Her backpack hung awkwardly off one shoulder and a few dirty locks of hair kept falling out of her French-braids and into her eyes, but she ignored it, following Nettie down the gravel road silently.

Mellie had always been shy growing up, and it was something she had never really grown out of. She sometimes wondered why she was the way she was—so demure, quiet, and introverted—so unlike her sister who was the epitome of confidence.

Somehow, after the world fell apart, Mellie had become even more enclosed and she found no reason to talk now. Nettie was older and smarter and knew what she was doing, so Mellie followed and listened and did as she was told. It was easier that way.

Looking down at the crunching gravel beneath her sneakers, Mellie let her mind wander to the past. She had been born into a kind and loving family that she absolutely adored with all her heart. Clara, her mother, had worked at a small bakery in the city and would always bring home cookies for her and Nettie to snack on while the two of them did their homework in the kitchen. Her father, William, had been a short, happy man with an infectious smile and laugh. He was a counselor at the high school and was well-loved and respected by everyone who knew him.

Mellie and Nettie had always got along well too, even though Nettie was ten-years older. She would allow Mellie to hang out with her and her friends whenever they came over—although Mellie suspected it was because their mother made her. Regardless, she enjoyed their time together. Even now, she could still remember sitting on the front porch steps of their townhouse and listening while Nettie and her friends sat on the steps in front of her, gossiping about the latest break-ups and giggling about cute boys they liked.

Mellie sucked in a deep, shaky breath and shifted her nephew in her sore arms. The sun had risen higher in the sky and the heat was becoming unbearable. She longed to feel the cool breeze of an air-conditioner against her skin, and an icy drink of water to quench her throat. Nettie was a few steps in front of her, a bag in each hand with her head down. The sleeves of her t-shirt had been rolled up to her shoulders, and sweat clung to her skin. Mellie's own clothes felt sticky as well.

"Mama," Colton croaked from her side and Mellie could feel his hot skin radiating off her own. "I'm thirsty," he whimpered.

Nettie's shoulders rose and fell, but her sigh was inaudible, as if she just didn't have the energy for it. She did not stop walking as she called back, "I know, baby. We'll find somethin' soon, I promise."

Later during the afternoon, when they had both stopped by the side of the road, too hot and too weak to do anything but sit and wither away in the miserable, torrid heat, Mellie lay her head on Nettie's shoulder with Colton half-asleep in her lap. Her shoulders were slumped and she faintly wondered what time it was. It was only going to get hotter as the day went on. How long had they been walking? She was starting to get so hungry that she felt sick, and she couldn't recall that last time she'd had anything to eat.

"Mellie?"

Slowly raising her head, Mellie looked up to find Nettie staring off at something in the distance and, narrowing her blue eyes, she was surprised to spot a dark shape on the horizon. Her breath hitched and she clutched Colton closer to her chest. The two sisters settled into a tense silence then, the hot rays of the sun beating down on the back of Mellie's neck and head as they watched the dot come closer.

"'You think it might be a car?" Nettie croaked, her throat cracking from lack of water.

Mellie only shrugged, feeling breathless and dizzy and overwhelmed. She swallowed her own spit, needing it to coat the back of her dried throat and looked down at the boy in her arms. He had lost weight over the last two weeks and his once plump body was now thin and bony. His blonde hair was sticking to his sunburned skin, eye-lids heavy over his brown eyes.

"We need a ride, Mellie," Nettie whispered lowly, her face strangely void of emotion as she stared down at her son, "We need food and water . . . or we're gonna die out here."

And that's when they heard the sound of an engine. Mellie's heart fluttered and she stood along with Nettie as a rusty blue pick-up truck began to take shape in front of them. She shifted her exhausted nephew in her aching arms while Nettie began to jump up and down, waving the car down.

At the sight of them, the truck slowed and soon—it stopped.

The dust under the wheels settled, and Mellie took a small step back.

"Well, well, well! What do we have here?" The man at the wheel hooted, a wide grin stretched over his daunting features, blue-eyes twinkling with wicked mirth. "Ain't the two of you just about the prettiest things I've come across in a while," he crooned. The man was tall from what Mellie could see and had curly, sandy-brown hair that was shaved close to his head, besides the tuff at the top. His well-build chest was clad in a stained wife-beater and there was a cigarette sitting between his fingers.

She watched Nettie smile back and lean against the window, asking, "Where ya'll headed?"

"Headin' up to Atlanta, heard it's a safe-zone," the man replied and it was then that Mellie noticed the other passenger.

He looked very similar to the man at the wheel, Mellie noticed and she could tell he was tall like him too, even slumped over as he was, but his face was more defined. His features were harsher, stronger. His eyes were the same cobalt blue, but his hair, while still a dusty brown, was longer and straight. He was very handsome, Mellie noticed and she quickly averted her gaze when their eyes met.

"Think we can catch a ride?" Nettie asked and Mellie's head quickly snapped back up, confused. She watched her sister push out her chest and bite her bottom lip, perplexed by the sudden shift in behavior.

"Depends on what you're willin' to pay, dollface," the man leered and she watched her sister lean closer.

"Anythin' you like," she told him, her voice coming out much shakier than she would have liked. And Mellie heard it. It took a second to put the pieces together, but then she knew, she _knew_ what Nettie was doing. And the dread that filled Mellie was instantaneous, like she'd been shocked by an electric current. The jolt of realization made her heart stop, and she felt as if her lungs had been punctured with a sharp knife, all the air rushing out at once.

The man's grin widened at her sister's answer, "Now that's what I like to hear!" he exclaimed, taking a long drag of his cigarette before stuffing it out in the truck's ashtray.

Mellie swallowed the lump in her throat, pushing down the thousands of burning questions she wanted to ask, pushing down the urge to scream until her lungs were raw. She wanted to say something, she wanted to stop her sister and tell the man _no_, that they could find another way—but the words remained on the tip of her tongue. And as usual, she remained silent.

"I'm Nettie, by the way," her sister suddenly said, forcing a weak, but pretty smile.

"Merle," his eye drifted passed Nettie and Mellie shifted uncomfortably when the man's eyes fell on her. "And what's your name, sweetheart?"

"She don't talk much."

Mellie nodded her head at her sister's statement, silent, and looked down at her feet, ignoring the sudden jolt of fear that shot through her veins.

"She's real cute, ain't she lil' brother?"

Nettie's soft face suddenly hardened at Merle's words and her voice became steel, "_No one touches her_," she bit out so harshly, it caused chills to run up Mellie's spine.

There was an awkward silence between all of them, before Nettie let out a soft chuckle. "Come on now," she pushed back a lock of blonde hair and tilted her head, "ain't I enough?" Nettie asked, her expression tired and worn. She wasn't even able to muster enough energy to sound coy anymore.

"'Course, never said you wasn't," Merle grinned and then he nodded back, "Get on in then."

Nettie turned to grab the bags on the side of the road and Mellie stood beside the trunk helplessly, not sure what to do.

"Come on," Nettie muttered, "Get in the car."

Mellie took a small step back and shook her head slowly. For a moment, her heart felt like it was made of strings, and each individual thread snapped painfully against her chest as it broke.

Suddenly, Nettie's hand was around her forearm, pinching her skin, "I said get in the goddamn car, Mellie. Now," and when she still didn't move, her grip tightened. Their eyes met and Mellie shivered under her sister's gaze. Her once bright green eyes were now as dark as caves and so, so _tired._ They were empty. They were cold. They were eyes of someone who had given up. "_Now_," she hissed.

Mellie shifted Colton in her arms and looked away—her throat tightening as the situation began to dawn on her with more clarity and she slowly moved toward the car when her sister let go, shuffling inside onto the nicotine scented seats. Cradling her sleeping nephew in her arms, Mellie's slowly raised her gaze up to the men in front of her as they began to drive and her breath hitched when she caught the eye of Merle's brother in the rearview mirror.

He didn't smile, didn't speak. He simply eyed her disheveled appearance with a blank expression, the space behind his eyes entirely empty. His gaze roamed over her flushed cheeks, greasy hair, and drooping French-braids, lastly settling on her bright blue eyes that were blinking at him from beneath wet lashes. She bowed her head under his scrutiny, nervous and embarrassed.

When she finally worked up the nerve to look up again, he was staring out the window, silent as his brother chattered on about this and that.

And so began the most uncomfortable car ride Mellie had ever endured.

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	2. Chapter Two

**CHAPTER TWO**

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She drifted in and out of sleep as they drove, dreaming fitfully and hallucinating sounds and smells that weren't really there. Nettie was holding her hand, though, and so she let herself drift off.

She had odd, indecipherable dreams—dreams where the un-dead creatures were chasing her through the desert. She ran and ran, but her legs seemed to be weighed down by some invisible substance, as if she were running through molasses. And no matter how far or how fast she ran, she could never escape their advances, and in the desert, there was nowhere for her to hide. Her only escape were the cliffs, and that is where she was falling, falling, falling, when suddenly she woke with a gasp, shooting up from her resting position and breathing hard.

And that's when she heard the voices. She blindly felt next to her only to realize that Colton and Nettie were not there. Her heart fluttered in panic as she tried to focus on the gray darkness around her and the soft voices.

". . . here for the night, move out in the mornin'."

It was the man, Merle's voice. Mellie regarded the truck she was laying in for a moment before she squinted through the darkness, finding her sister with Colton in her arms and Merle in front of her. Daryl, the younger brother, was building up a fire a few feet away from a tent that had been set up by the side of the road.

The same anxious feeling crept into her stomach once again and she crawled out of the truck, pushing the door open and padding over to her sister's side.

"Well, well! Look who's finally awake!" Merle crooned and Mellie swallowed down the dry patches in her throat and blinked up at him silently.

He laughed sharply at her mute response. "You're a doll, ain't ya'?" He smiled and, raising the beer he had been holding, he took a swig and then let it hang at his side. "Hey," he suddenly said, his demeanor changing in an instant and his smile gone. He bent at the waist to reach down into the bag by his feet and pulled out a bottle, "Bet you're thirsty, huh?"

Harley looked down at the water the man was holding out to her, staring at the plastic bottle as if she didn't know quite what to make of it. She then looked up at Nettie who was standing off the side behind her. They locked eyes and she immediately took the water from Merle under her sister's stern glare, nodding her thanks.

After she took her first gulp of the warm water, she couldn't stop and before she knew it she had chugged down half the bottle. Her body became heavy as it finally relaxed from its dehydrated state and the shaking in her fingers began to lessen. She handed the water back to him and took four steps backward so she was standing beside her sister again, eyes on the ground.

"What do you say, Mellie?" Nettie asked.

Mellie looked up at her sister who was staring down at her with a pointed expression. She tried to open her mouth to speak, but for the life of her, she couldn't force any sound out. She had never had a problem speaking before (though she usually kept quiet even before the outbreak), and she didn't understand why she couldn't now. Perhaps it was because Merle was so intimidating and he frightened her, or maybe it was the fact that Nettie was staring at her with an unwavering gaze. It was all too overbearing, and as Mellie's voice continued to fail her, she shifted uncomfortably and nodded her head in place of words, giving Merle a closed-lip smile.

Nettie sighed, "I'm sorry, she uh, she hasn't spoken since the outbreak." Mellie's shifted uncomfortably at her sisters words and she watched her from the corner of her eye. "She . . . saw things."

Mellie closed her eyes and took a deep breath, unclenching her fingers from her palms, revealing bloody crescents from where her nails had broken the skin. She noiselessly wiped the blood against the bottom of her cotton dress, and then clenched her fists harder.

Merle's voice suddenly broke through Mellie's silent fuming, "Why don't we take this conversation into the tent," he nodded toward the shelter and gave Nettie a smile. She felt her sister's body stiffen a bit beside her and slowly looked up to watch Nettie start toward the tent with Colton in her arms. The small boy was playing with the ends of his mother's hair, completely unaware of his surroundings.

"Leave the boy," Merle called as he entered the tent and Nettie froze again.

"Mama?" Colton asked when she set him down and Nettie simply gave him a tired smile. She leaned down and gave her son a soft kiss against his forehead before she gently pushed him toward Mellie.

"Go play with your Auntie, baby," she whispered, but Colton didn't move. She nudged him a bit more anxiously, "Go on now." She insisted, looking to Mellie.

The younger woman hesitated for a short beat before bending down, her eyes flickering over to Nettie before they landed on wide-eyed nephew. His sunburnt skin was scrunched underneath his mop of curly blonde hair and his lips were pulled into a deep frown. His gaze roamed over Mellie and she took in his chocolate eyes that were blinking up at her from beneath heavy, tired lids. She gave him a tight smile and gently pulled him into her side, her fingers brushing though his hair as she watched Nettie stand at the opening of tent. Her face was void again.

Mellie shook her head then in one last desperate attempt to stop her sister but Nettie simply stared back at her, eyes empty.

"You comin' or not?"

At Merle's question, Nettie turned and entered the tent without another word.

Mellie watched the zipper seal her sister's fate and swallowed down the thick lump in her throat, picking up Colton and walking to the fire a few feet away.

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It was dark and the light of the fire bounced off the trees, creating strange, distorted shadows against the ground. Mellie slowly rocked Colton on her lap, her cheek resting against his forehead as they listened to the quiet crackle of the flames. Her eyes flickered over to Daryl every once in a while, curious.

Minutes passed, and with it, the heat from earlier that day began to dissipate. She shivered as the night air crept in around her, and she knew Colton was cold too from the way the hairs on his arm were standing on end. She could feel goose bumps on his arm. Her grip on him tightened and she moved them closer to the fire. And in doing so, they got closer to Daryl.

He was cleaning off the arrows that belonged to what looked to be a crossbow, his head bowed and his movements smooth.

A low moan drifted through the air from the tent and Mellie stiffened.

Closing her eyes, she let her mind wander back to before the outbreak, to the times when she would visit Nettie at her home in the suburbs. Mellie would sit on the floor in the in the living room while the afternoon sunlight poured in from the window and warmed her back. She would watch Nettie as she and Colton would dance around the room to the music on the radio, cheering them on by offering wide smiles whenever they looked over at her and clapping her hands to the beat. Sometimes, she would even join in—dancing around the neat furniture and laughing so hard her stomach would ache.

But then the world fell apart. It had been so unexpected, so random, that it eroded and tore at the foundation that had been holding her perfect life together. Now, Nettie was pimping herself out so they could survive and little Colton was being deprived of the childhood he deserved. Mellie sucked in a shuttering breath. She tried to block out the sounds from the tent but they were getting louder, and Colton was starting to hear, his head turning on her shoulder to look at the shelter his mother resided in. She tried to cover his ears but he simply shrugged her off and asked her what the noises were, his tiny brows furrowed.

Suddenly, Daryl stood from across the fire and pulled his crossbow over his shoulder. He didn't say a word as he turned to enter the forest.

Mellie watched him go with wide-eyes. The groans inside the tent were getting louder and Colton was beginning to whine and before she could comprehend what she was doing, she was following Daryl into the trees with her nephew sitting on her hip.

The late night moon dappled the ground as it filtered through the overarching canopy of trees. Mellie walked leisurely over the leaf-covered gravel, bouncing Colton on her side and pulling leaves from the trees for him play with. It was quiet, aside from the birds calling to one another in the treetops and Mellie slowly began to relax.

"You followin' me, girl?"

Daryl's voice swiftly broke through the silence and Mellie jumped at the volume. She stared up at him, wide-eyed, and nodded her head twice in answer.

He grunted, "Go back to camp, there's some jerky in the truck, help yourselves."

And with that, he started walking again.

Mellie stared at his back for a few moments and then looked up at the sky. The man was a good few years older than her, that much was obvious, and Mellie got the feeling he didn't want to be around her. Even so, she summoned the courage and began to follow him again, making sure she kept a reasonable distance.

She heard Daryl sigh in exasperation and he looked over his shoulder with a glare, "Damn, you just won't let up will you?"

Mellie simply shook her head and switched Colton to her other hip. The little boy was starting to drift off, his head nodding off against her shoulder and she was happy he was able to go to sleep with a full stomach for the first time in two weeks.

Daryl turned all the way around to face Mellie, his gaze steady on her until she finally lifted her eyes to his. They stared at each other for a long beat. His eyes—a deep, troubled blue—looked as if they had seen all the horrors of the world and then some. She let her gaze roam lower, taking in his broad frame. He was tall, like she expected, but now that he was standing only a few feet away, she realized that he towered over her. Mellie was five-feet even, and the top of her head hardly even made to his shoulder.

Mellie dared a small step closer when Daryl began to eye her with a bit more interest, shifting a sleeping Colton so his legs were wrapped around her waist. He seemed to understand her silent request and began walking again, not having to look to know she was following. He didn't try sending her away again. He knew she didn't want to be around the tent and wouldn't let up until Merle was finished with her sister.

They walked through the forest until Mellie's arms began to ache so badly that they were becoming jelly. After carrying Colton all day through the hot sun, she felt her limbs trembling under his weight and she had no choice but to sit down. She supposed she could wake Colton up and have him walk, but the fear of him wandering off and getting caught by one of those . . . _things_ was too risky. She would never take the chance.

Plopping herself ungracefully under an evergreen, she set Colton on her lap and made sure her body was blocking the chilly evening wind. Daryl had stopped when he realized she wasn't following him, leaning against a tree across from her. For a while, everything was completely silent. Mellie tried distracting herself by listening to the crickets chirping, and the sound of Colton's breathing.

Her eyes slowly wandered to Daryl and her breath hitched in horror to see he had his crossbow pointed right at her, his eyes empty and cold. Fear clawed its way up her throat and she let out a barely audible whimper, clutching Colton tighter as she prepared to bolt.

_Whoosh!_

The sound of an arrow burying itself into flesh echoed through Mellie's ears and she stared at Daryl in shock, her bottom lip trembling. Slowly, she turned just in time to watch a rotting, walking corpse fall to the ground with a mute thump. Hot tears stung at her eyes, and she tried her hardest to hold them back, letting out a shaky breath instead—shocked to her core.

She stood then, her knees trembling so hard she could barely stand. She pressed her back against the tree, searching the darkness for Daryl's eyes.

When he spoke, his voice came as such a surprise she nearly jumped out of her skin, "Come 'ere"

Fixing Colton on her hip, she jumping when their hand's touched and he snatched it in a vice. For one horrible, heart pounding moment, she thought he would snap her wrist in two, right there in front of her, but then she realized he had only grabbed her to get her to stop shaking.

"It's fine," he grunted stiffly.

Mellie nodded, yet she still shook under his grip.

"We should head back," Without another word, he grabbed his arrow from the corpse and roughly pulled her and Colton out of the forest, his free hand still around her wrist. Mellie stared up at him and watched Daryl with the little light they were given by the moon. She watched the way his other hand clenched and unclenched around the strap of his crossbow, and the way the sweat dripped down his neck and into the collar of his shirt. He paused to look at her every so often, before turning away almost angrily.

But the only thought running through Mellie's mind was,_ He saved us_.

Daryl let go of her wrist the moment they came into the camp and silently moved to the camp fire, returning to the same place he had been before they'd gone into the woods. He began to clean the bolt he had used on the corpse, staring down at it vacantly. He didn't look back up.

Suddenly, the tent's flap opened and Merle walked out with a wide, satisfied grin stretched over his face. He was buttoning his jeans.

When he noticed Mellie, his grin widened. "You got one hell of a sister, girlie," he chuckled, licking his lips crudely and running a hand over his head, "Damn."

Mellie ignored him and immediately stepped toward the tent, glancing back a Daryl one last time before stepping inside. The musky scent of sex was overwhelming, and she frowned and scrunched her nose, the scent of it entirely unpleasant to all her senses. She saw her sister lying in the middle of the tent staring at the ceiling with an expression that had her heart sinking.

"I'm fine," Nettie muttered when she noticed them, wiping her nose with the back of her hand and forcing a feeble laugh that accidentally came out choked. Mellie noticed she also kept trying to cover up her neck with her hands, and that's when Mellie noticed how red it was. Her eyes drifted back up to meet Nettie's, and the older girl suddenly looked like she was going to puke. "Set Colton down over there," she said, a bit too loud.

Mellie immediately did as she asked, lying her sleeping nephew on a sleeping bag and covering him with a blanket.

"He didn't hurt me," Nettie whispered when Mellie turned back to her. She laid down at her sister's side and grabbed her hand, squeezing it to let her know she was there.

They were silent for a long beat.

"They know how to hunt, Mellie," Nettie suddenly murmured. "They got enough food to keep us fed for the week, and they got water too." Mellie remained silent, staring at the fading red marks around her sister's neck, poorly concealed by the collar of her stretched t-shirt. "I know you're nervous, Mells but I promise, I won't let them touch you. Not while I'm around, ya' hear? We got a good thing goin' here. We're gonna survive," their eyes met and Nettie's face suddenly became desperate, as if she was trying to convince herself that what had happened was acceptable. "And look! Look at Colton! He's sleepin' better then he has in days and he looks healthier already!"

After a painstaking moment, Mellie hesitantly nodded her head and Nettie's shoulders relaxed, just a bit. She lay her head back against the ground and stared up at the top of the tent, stating, "Go sleep, we got a long drive tomorrow."

Mellie obeyed.

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	3. Chapter Three

**CHAPTER THREE**

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The next three days passed in slow succession. Mellie kept busy with Colton and spent the remainder of her time following Nettie around. She had scarcely seen Daryl since their last encounter in the woods. She would steal glances at him in the car when they were traveling or would catch a glimpse of him walking around their tiny camp in early hours of morning, but he never looked at her or even acknowledged that she was there.

It made her even more uncomfortable with the Dixon brothers. The only reason the two men were letting them stay there was because of Nettie's deal with Merle—it made Mellie wonder what would happen if that deal was broken.

In the early hours of the morning, the sky was a pallid shade of slate gray, half-hidden behind billowy white clouds that hung in the air. Outside, the world lay silent and still, the sun having yet to crest the horizon. Already it was humid and sticky out, and the grass and trees were damp from the heat. The air-conditioner had broken down a day ago, so they had the windows rolled down and Mellie let her arm hang over the side, watching her hand as she snaked it through the air against the wind. The corners of her lips lifted and she closed her eyes.

She let her mind wander back to before the outbreak and her smile widened at the fact that she missed eating oranges of all things; she missed the tart sweetness of the juice as she bit into it, and the fact that she could still taste it on her skin hours later. She missed going swimming and drinking cold lemonade in summer, and watching the sun set from her bedroom window. She missed the smell of her momma's cookies fresh from the oven and her daddy's belly-laugh that would make everyone around him smile. Mellie felt her shoulders droop and she quickly shook the thoughts from her head.

Nearly half an hour later, after passing countless open fields, old, barbed-wire fences, and scattered, abandoned barns, the six of them were finally able to make out Atlanta on the horizon. As the sky lightened and the air inside the car got hotter, Mellie leaned back, her head resting against the side of the door just beside the window—breathless from the heat with strands of hair plastered to her forehead. The closer they got, the harder Mellie's heart began to drum within her chest, anticipation coursing through her. There, lying just ahead was the safe-zone, the place that would keep her family safe. They probably had showers and food and medicine waiting them and her breath quickened at the mere thought of it.

This was it, the moment she had been waiting for ever since they'd met the Dixon brothers. She moved to lean her head out the window, smiling to herself. Her heart thudded anxiously in her chest, the sweet anticipation almost too much to bear.

And then, just as quickly as it started, it was over.

"Son of a bitch," Merle swore.

Empty cars lined the road and the smell of rotting flesh was so strong that Mellie felt her entire stomach churn. It was like a ghost town: silent, vacant, _dead_. Mellie felt herself blink, feeling too many emotions to be described at once. Her chest heaved as she struggled to catch her breath. Her whole body felt numb with a sick sense of dread, an emotion she hadn't ever felt so strongly before.

She turned to gauge everyone's reactions, and surprisingly, it was Daryl who looked the most shocked. He sat stiff, rigid, and straight-backed, with narrowed eyes, while Merle and Nettie were a little less poised, their shoulders drawn down and their jaws locked.

Mellie lowered her head and licked her lips as she waited for a reaction, desperate for some sort of anchor to keep her grounded.

"Where is everyone?" Nettie finally breathed, her voice breaking the silence the way a cup abruptly shatters to the floor. "I thought you said this was a safe-zone!"

"Ain't a safe-zone no-more," Merle grunted, reaching for a pack of cigarettes that had been on the floor of the car. Mellie watched, expressionlessly, as he brought a lighter to the cigarette held captive between his lips, giving it a few clicks before a flame emerged. He passed the box to Daryl then, and the younger brother lit the one that was in the packet, bringing it to his lips and breathing in deep. Daryl looked distinctively frustrated at that moment—like his temper was a rubber band about to snap. He let a string of smoke descend from between his lips and then rolled his cigarette between large fingers, but Mellie only stared at his eyes, captivated by the way a million and one thoughts seemed to rush through his mind all at once.

"Where are we gonna go now?" Nettie hissed, angry at the silence. She was glaring at the back of Merle's head but he only continued to lazily smoke his cigarette, looking almost bored with the whole situation. His eyes were red and puffy, as if he's been crying, but Mellie knew he hadn't. His lips were in thin line, and his temper was bubbling. Mellie thought about Merle's mood-swings, the high he'd been riding since last night, his bloodshot eyes and bad temper—had he been taking something?

"Turn up here and head up into them mountains," Daryl begins, mumbling around the tobacco lodged in the corner of his mouth as smoke wafted around him. "We'll be safe up there 'till mornin'."

Merle glared at his brother, the bone in his jaw twitching in irritation at being told what to do, but he listened anyways, pulling back out of the empty road and back into the trees.

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Merle wasn't always mean. Sometimes, when they were hiking through the forest, he'd find berries and show them to Mellie and Colton and then he'd say something like, _don't eat these 'less you wanna shit out blood for a month_. Small offerings of solidarity that, while they didn't happen often, told Mellie that maybe there was something good in the man. She was eager, greedy even, to gobble the small glimpses of goodwill that he gave, given her sister gave him her body every night.

Being with the brothers wasn't all bad, even if Merle had a meanness to him that meant he could hurt people with his words, words that could cause people to shrivel and become something small. Daryl had this meanness to him too, but he could swallow his words and smother them and stay silent when Merle couldn't. He was mean in the way he looked at you, and how dark his eyes got. Sometimes even the simplest of words pierced like bullets. His voice could do that to you, and she didn't think he really tried. He had this anger rumbling in his belly, always bubbling within him, and she could tell by his temper. He could swallow his words and bury them deep, but that didn't mean they didn't spew from his mouth whenever the fury became too much.

They had been traveling for a week and a half now, and Mellie found that if they weren't around, she had this untamable fear, whispers in her head that would tell her that her family had been abandoned and left for dead. They couldn't survive on their own and both Mellie and Nettie knew it. And so did the Dixon's.

The leaves of the trees were bristling against Mellie's skin and her eyes darting around frantically as she searched out her young nephew. He'd snuck off while her back was turned and she felt a sickness settle in her stomach. The slightest swishing of bushes had her shaking, scared it might be one of the dead. In her head, she had this horrible vision of Colton, having been bitten, mindlessly bumbling towards her with his brown eyes becoming a petrifying milky gray and his sweet voice gurgling and gargling—

Mellie paused at the sound of moaning from behind the trees. Her eyes widened in mind-numbing fear and she carefully climbing logs until she spotted a mop of hair the color of sunshine. Her heart fluttered and she moved forward, her entire body relaxing at the sight of her nephew. His head was cocked and he was staring forward at something in confusion and when she pulled him into her arms, she turned in surprised to find a couple sprawled out on the forest floor—panting and laughing breathlessly.

Mellie's eyes widened and she moved to take a step back, but her foot landed on a branch with a resounding _crunch_.

The woman let out a shriek, shoving the man off her and he stumbled with flailing arms, trying to steady himself and grab his gun all at once. Mellie toppled back herself, tightening her grip on Colton as she stared at the pair with wide eyes.

"Shane!" the woman hissed. Mellie's eyes fell to the fumbling fingers of the woman who was rubbing her blushing red skin as if ridding herself of his feverish kisses, and saw she had a wedding ring. Her brows furrowed and she looked to the man who was blinking rapidly, still pointing the gun at her and noticed he didn't. "Put the gun down!"

Shane looked over Mellie and Colton slowly. The woman held her hands over her eyes, obviously embarrassed, while her boyfriend hovered protectively between them, still pointing the shotgun at Mellie, moving his mouth as if trying to think of something to say, "You got other people with you?"

Mellie nodded silently.

"Shane, they're just—"

"I got this, Lori," Shane interrupted, intense gaze turning towards her to assure her of this, then turning towards Mellie again. "Now, you're sayin' you ain't alone? Who're you with?"

Mellie only continued to stare, shifting feet uncomfortably. She clutched Colton closer when he began to whine and looked around at the trees, noticing a rustle behind a bush a few feet away. She swallowed down the dry patches in her throat and blinked, nervous butterflies settling in her stomach, their imaginary wings flapping around her intestines and making her squirm.

"I said who're you with?" Shane asked again, but Mellie's mouth remained shut. She knew this man wouldn't hurt her—he was an officer, given the uniform—and so she patiently remained rooted to the forest floor. "'You speak?"

"I'd put that gun down if I was you."

Mellie jumped when she felt someone roughly grab her arm, "Where did you go?" Nettie hissed in her ear, ripping Colton away from her. "Runnin' off like that, you could'a gotten my son killed, do you realize that? How could you be so irresponsible? God, you're twenty-five years old, Mellie. Start actin' like it, for Christ's sake—"

Mellie swallowed and averted her eyes to the ground, wrapping her arms around her middle as she observed the leaf covered floor in great detail. She felt the back of her eyes itch but resisted the urge to cry, biting the inside of her mouth instead as guilt ran heavy through her veins. She desperately wanted to apologize, but her as usual, nothing made it past her lips.

"What the hell are you doin'?" Shane practically growled, his grip on his shotgun tightening. Merle was on one side of the officer with his pistol drawn while Daryl was on the other with his crossbow.

"We was just huntin' for a lil' grub when—."

"Huntin'?" Shane interrupted.

"You mean, wild animal kind of hunting?" Lori said, honestly sounding surprised.

Merle looked over the two of them almost lazily, his eye twitching in irritation at having been interrupted, "There ain' no other kind 'a huntin', sweetheart," he sneered. His eyes ran up and down the man and woman and his smile widened, making him look like a wolf about to eat it's prey. "We hunt and skin our food the good ole' fashioned way, me and my brother."

Shane's gun lowered only slightly and his gaze became more interested. "If you're bein' honest with us, and that's a strong if, how do I know you ain't gonna try stealing from us?"

"Now, why would we do somethin' like that, huh?" Merle questioned. "We're just a couple a' humble family folk who found this quarry here and thought it was nice and quaint. Figured we'd stay."

Lori and Share shared a look. Then, slowly, she said, "Shane, he might be telling the truth."

"Don't it seem too good to be true?" he spat, his eyes flickering to her. "They say they can hunt, survive this shit. They might just be trying to swindle us outta all our stuff, Lori. We got people to protect."

"And I got a family to protect myself," Merle took a step forward and spread his arms, his pistol hanging idly in his right hand. "Now, listen, my brother and I . . . we'd be willin' to help protect ya'll and ya' people. We'll hunt. Get ya' food. If you'll let us stay with ya', that is."

Shane didn't say anything, staring as if he was actually considering what he had said. He looked back down to Lori, whose brown eyes were peering around in discomfort, before finally turning back to a smirking Merle. "Seems like a lot of promising," he replied gruffly.

"Dixon's don't break promises," Merle cooed, but that wide, almost mocking grin on his face said otherwise.

"You got a week to prove yourselves. If you mess up, you're out."

Merle's smile tightened at being told what to do but he managed to keep his composure. "Merle," he stated loudly, his voice scratchy. He reached out to take Shane's outstretched hand and shook it once a bit too roughly.

"I'm Shane Walsh, this is Lori Grimes."

Merle's brow rose and his grin somehow widened, giving the both of them another once over before nodding to his side. "This here's my wife, Nettie." He drawled and Mellie's head rose in surprise, her brows furrowing in confusion. She turned to her sister but Nettie had no expression. She stood at Merle's side with Colton in her arms, looking over Lori and Shane with pursed lips. "And that there's my brother Daryl and his wife, Mellie."

Mellie felt all the blood in her body come rushing to her face as she watched Shane and Lori look at Daryl and her with what looked to be a mixture of skepticism and suspicion. She desperately wanted to ask Merle what he was thinking, but when she opened her mouth, nothing came out. Her eyes moved to the ground and she mentally kicked herself. She thought she heard Daryl take a step forward, but she couldn't be bothered to turn to him to see.

"This is Colton, my son," Nettie spoke and Mellie found herself annoyed at the sound.

"The camp's this way." Shane nodded.

And with that, they turned back into the trees.

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They decided on setting up at the very edge of the camp and it was when they were all alone, with only the trees and backwoods to listen, did Daryl finally explode. He charged at Merle like a raging bull, shoving the man so hard he stumbled. Mellie's throat tightened and Nettie gasped, watching Merle stumble backwards. But it was as if he'd expected this of Daryl and this was what he'd been waiting for, because he didn't do anything even when Daryl clutched his shirt between his fingers.

"The hell was that, Merle?" Daryl shouted, "She ain't my goddamn wife!"

Merle only sneered, shoving the younger man off him and absently rubbing his chest. "Too late now baby brother, what's done is done."

Daryl ran his hands over his face in frustration and began to pace. "You can't just go shoving off lies like that!" he continued to yell. "That girl don't even look old enough to drive, you shit!"

"You're doin' that girl a favor," Merle paused to point at Mellie. "She ain't claimed, so that means she's free bait."

"What? You think one a' those pricks is gonna rape her?" Daryl looked at the older man in disbelief. "You're outta your goddamn mind!"

"Hell, better safe than sorry, lil' brother. Her sister wanted it this way," he said and suddenly his demeanor changing in an instant and his smile was gone. He leaned in close to Daryl, his eyes narrowed as he cooed dangerously. "Now, you're gonna play pretend 'till we're finished here, you got me?"

With his skin a splotchy scarlet, Daryl spat, "Fuck you."

He was staring his brother down, tense and defiant and Merle had this cruel smile stretched over his face, like he thought Daryl was being cute and he was going to crush him for it. Leaning in a little closer, the older Dixon snickered, "My, my _Darylena_. You kiss your wife with that mouth?"

That seemed to be the last straw for Daryl. He roughly grabbed his crossbow and stormed into the forest away from Merle's booming laughter, his shoulders tense and shaking.

The next morning, he came back with seven rabbits, having slaughtered them all with his arrows and anger.

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It was in the tent, while Daryl was hunting and Merle was cooking himself a can of chili outside, did Nettie finally notice the stare Mellie had been giving her. She sighed and looked down at Colton, who she was tucking into bed.

"Don't look at me like that, Mell. It's best this way," she stated.

Mellie knew she was being authentic and that Nettie honestly thought she was protecting her. But what really stung—what was _really _making her angry—was that Nettie was making decisions for her without her permission and that's what stung like a bolt of livewire. She didn't even think to ask. And if the whole situation wasn't maddening enough, Nettie didn't even understand _why _Mellie was angry with her.

"If you're worried he's gonna touch you, he won't," she murmured, resting her hand on Mellie's cheek. "It's just a cover, I promise—you don't even have to act different."

Mellie swallowed the lump in her throat, pushing down the thousands of burning questions she wanted to ask, pushing down the urge to scream until her lungs were raw, pushing down the accusations and frustration and exasperation. Instead, she only continued to stare at her sister, trying desperately to make her understand.

But Nettie only smiled softly, pulling her into a hug.

"Everything I do is for you and Colton, Mell. Everything," she whispered.

_I know._

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_review!_


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